


in the same vein (necking remix)

by annejumps



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Developing Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-15 17:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11235306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: Charles was one of the few people in Erik’s life who didn’t judge him for being a vampire, and Erik felt he would be greatly disappointing Charles if he had any inkling of Erik’s struggle to control his urges.





	in the same vein (necking remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [widgenstain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/widgenstain/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Necking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/799320) by [widgenstain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/widgenstain/pseuds/widgenstain). 



Erik was fairly comfortable sharing almost everything with Charles, his telepathic best friend and fellow mutant, except for his feelings about him, including the fact that Erik wanted to bite his neck. 

His beautiful, perfect, tempting neck. 

But Charles was one of the few people in Erik’s life who didn’t judge him for being a vampire, and Erik felt he would be greatly disappointing Charles if he had any inkling of Erik’s struggle to control his urges.

However, Charles made it so difficult sometimes that Erik almost suspected he was teasing him on purpose. 

For example, they often met up at the corner pub in the evenings after Charles’ rugby games, to talk and sometimes play chess. Charles would have just showered, and he was always flushed not just from that but from the exertion of the game. The blood would be high in his cheeks, bright in the tips of his ears, lending a healthy pink tint to his pale neck. Erik’s metal-related mutation meant that he could sense the iron in Charles’ blood, and it always called to him like a siren’s song, tempting him to press Charles against the wall of the pub, pull at his hair to bend his head back and expose his neck, sink his teeth into that throbbing jugular vein, and _drink_.

But no, Erik doubted Charles would tease him like that. He was just exercising and then showering. There was nothing more to it than that, Erik was sure. But deciding Charles didn’t mean anything by it didn’t stop Erik from fantasizing about him that way.

Luckily, Erik had somewhat of a natural shielding against telepathy, and Charles and their other telepathic friend Emma were able to help him strengthen it, although he didn’t tell Charles why exactly he wanted to do so. (Emma, he suspected, had done some snooping and figured it out, but Charles would never deliberately snoop in Erik’s mind.) If Charles knew what images were running through Erik’s mind as he and Charles sat at their usual table, he’d no doubt disapprove, and that would be the end of their friendship. 

And that friendship was far too important to Erik for him to risk it on a few moments of having Charles Xavier helpless beneath him, in his thrall, trembling as Erik bit him and then sucked down his sweet, hot, delicious blood…. 

Would Charles gasp? Would he clutch at Erik? Erik thought about licking at his skin first, tasting it, then kissing it, and then biting at last, when he couldn’t wait any longer, when Charles’ blood was tantalizingly closer than it had ever been before....

Erik was all too aware of vampire bite fetish porn, and the people who had such fetishes. Whenever he went to the local vampire nightclub, he’d be trailed by hopeful sycophants eager for him to take them up on their offers and drink from them. 

And sometimes Erik did. He drank from forearms, wrists, crooks of elbows, and even, on one memorable occasion, a thigh. 

But whenever he drank from someone’s neck, classic vamp style, he always found himself wishing it were Charles he were drinking from (not that he’d complain about drinking from Charles anywhere else, but his neck was Erik’s especial favorite spot to think about). 

The people he drank from were always pleased, and of course Erik was glad to have nourishment, but that particular vampiric rapture he’d heard so much about was missing. He couldn’t help thinking that it wouldn’t be missing with Charles. 

But actually broaching the subject with Charles seemed unthinkable. He was so kind, so good; he’d done enough in accepting one of the undead into his circle of friends. He’d almost surely think of Erik as truly being the monster he was if Erik said anything about drinking from him.

All that said, however, it was still a peculiar kind of torment to be around Charles, to smell and _sense_ his blood and see the evidence of it blooming just under his skin, just out of reach. Yet he’d never spare himself a moment of such torture.

And then, one evening, Charles came into the pub, showered as usual, but with a split lip and a cut on his jawline.

“Boot to the face,” he told Erik, smiling. He had an ice pack with him. His lip was swollen, and he worried the area with his tongue. “I’m fortunate I don’t sustain more injuries,” he added. “I do get my share of scraped knees….” 

But Erik was barely listening, because the cut on Charles’ jaw was not bandaged and the split on his lip was seeping small ruby-red drops of blood, which Charles smeared with his tongue….

Erik felt a strong surge of desire and hunger, with a vivid image in his mind of sliding his tongue along Charles’ jaw, sucking at the wound, and then kissing his lush mouth, his cold lips against Charles’ hot ones, fangs pricking his skin, tasting him as he slid his tongue into Charles’ mouth….

“I have to go,” Erik said, standing abruptly.

“Erik!” Charles said, surprised, blushing. Erik realized with alarm that he might not have been able to hide those thoughts from Charles. He made his way rapidly to the door, and outside into the night.

He stayed home the next few nights. No doubt Charles was disgusted by him.

Several nights after the incident, however, he was shocked to hear a knock at his door. Few people knew where he lived, and few of them would come to see him unannounced. Even Charles had never actually been to his home.

It was Charles.

“Erik,” he said, smiling, apologetic. Erik could catch the faint scent of him in the air. His jaw and lip were mostly healed, and Erik tried not to make it obvious he’d been looking.

“Come in, Charles.”

Charles stepped in and stood in the foyer, hands in his pockets. “Erik. How are you?”

“Why are you here, Charles?” Erik said, not in the mood for pleasantries, unsettled by Charles being in his home. 

“I haven’t seen you at the pub and I wanted to make sure you were all right,” Charles answered. 

“You could have called.” Erik turned to walk to his living room. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No, thank you. And I didn’t call because I wanted to see you,” Charles said, rather pointedly. “You’re my friend.” 

Erik stopped, and turned back to stare at Charles. “I’m a monster,” he said flatly.

Charles looked at him a long time. “I know what you were thinking, in the pub the other night, before you left.”

Erik sighed. “What do you want from me, Charles? Do you want me to beg your forgiveness for my distasteful inclinations?”

“I’ve thought about it, too, Erik,” Charles said carefully, quietly, watching him.

“What?”

“About you… drinking from me.” There was a husky undertone to Charles’ voice, and he swallowed, looking away. Erik watched his adam’s apple bob, then stared at his throbbing jugular. Charles’ heart was beating faster, and Erik ran his tongue absently over the points of his fangs.

Stifling a groan, he instead began, “Why didn’t you—”

“I didn’t want you to think I was one of those hangers-on, someone just trying to get close to you so you could drink from them and fulfill their fantasy,” Charles said, regarding him once more. “You never indicated you were interested, and I didn’t sneak into your mind to see if you were. I must admit, when I got that boot to the face from Stevens I couldn’t help thinking of what you’d say when you saw it, but I wasn’t expecting something quite that… intense.”

“So you’re here to tell me it’s all right that I was thinking—that I had that thought?” Erik asked, steeling himself for that being all that Charles wanted, trying not to get his hopes up.

“Yes. That and I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to do that, for real,” Charles said, blushing again.

Erik took a deep, fortifying breath, although oxygen intake or lack thereof hadn’t mattered much one way or the other for him for decades now. “I would. I do.”

“You do?” Charles looked bashful and relieved—far from the expression of horror and disgust Erik had imagined he’d have when he realized Erik did want to drink from him. Charles was wearing a polo shirt with a button-up placket, and now, fingers fumbling slightly in his excitement, he unbuttoned it, pulling the fabric away from his collarbones and exposing his alabaster skin in offering, drawing an involuntary groan from Erik. “I wore this in case you said yes,” he said, a little breathless. “Unless you don’t…. Unless you don’t want to drink from my neck.”

“I do,” Erik confessed. “Sometimes it’s all I can think about.”

Charles laughed in a huff. “Then please do, my friend. It’s all yours. Will it…. Will it hurt?”

“A little,” Erik said, distracted, stepping close to Charles and cupping his jaw, tilting his head back with gentle but firm direction. There were those throbbing veins, no longer so teasing now, just waiting for him to claim them. “I won’t drain you, of course,” Erik assured him, dry. “I don’t want you to end up like me, roaming the Earth for all eternity.” 

Charles said nothing to that. Erik noticed that he had goosebumps from the touch of Erik’s cold hand on his skin, and realized this was the first time he’d touched Charles.

He was a few inches shorter than Erik, and when Charles realized Erik had to stoop a bit he backed himself against a nearby wall and stood on his tiptoes. Then, at last, Erik had Charles pressed between the length of his body and a wall, willing and tense with anticipation, hot all over. He dropped a kiss to Charles’ neck to taste his skin before letting himself slowly, and as gently as possible, sink his fangs into him.

“Oh!” Charles gasped, clutching at Erik, heart fluttering like a trapped bird. 

Erik swiped his tongue across the bite, letting Charles’ blood slick it, and then he fastened himself to it once he’d got the taste and drank, sucking it down. It didn’t take long for him to sense that growing euphoria as Charles’ blood filled him—he was delicious, his essence nourishing Erik and helping continue his undead existence. 

But it was more than just the usual blood high—he’d been right in guessing that Charles’ blood would give him that rare ecstatic connection. It felt so good he knew he’d have to be careful to stop himself, in order not to drain Charles entirely.

Charles, for his part, was moaning low in his throat, his fingers curled tightly in Erik’s clothes as he ground his hips against Erik’s. Erik was aware then that the pleasure he was feeling wasn’t entirely his—some was Charles’, bleeding over to him, as it were, from Charles’ mind. This was…. 

This was giving Charles an orgasm. 

Stopping himself with a great effort of will, Erik shifted back just slightly, and looked at Charles, who blinked up at him, face pale and pupils enormous. “I….” Charles began.

Erik shook his head, and licked his lips. He watched the twin fang wounds begin to clot, but pressed his fingertips to them all the same. “It’s fine. Rest,” he said, voice sounding husky to his own ears. “I’ll get you to the couch and cook you a steak.”

Charles ran a hand through his hair, self-conscious, and nodded. Erik guided him to sit (which he did gingerly), and excused himself to the kitchen. If Charles was embarrassed from coming in his pants, he could go to Erik’s bathroom and clean up (if he had the strength) while Erik made his steak. Meanwhile, Erik needed some time to himself to process what had just happened.

His best friend had gotten off on letting Erik drink from him. Their friendship would be forever changed, and might even be over.

Erik finished Charles’ steak, plated it, and prepared himself for Charles to say it was through, that things were going to be too strange between them now.

Erik walked back to his living room, where Charles sat waiting for him. 

No sooner had he set down the plate before him than Charles broke the silence.

“When can we do that again?”


End file.
